For his grandfather, who was indisposed, he was induced to preside at a political meeting in the interest of a wealthy local brewer, who confidently expected the seat, and, through gifts to the party, a knighthood.

Before the meeting, in the gush of--as he put it "kindred aims," he laid a finger familiarly in Gaston's button-hole.
Jacques, who was present, smiled, for he knew every change in his master's face, and he saw a glitter in his eye.

He remembered when they two were in trouble with a gang of river-drivers, and one did this same thing rudely: how Gaston looked down, and said, with a devilish softness: "Take it away." And immediately after the man did so.
Mr.Sylvester Gregory Babbs, in a similar position, heard a voice say down at him, with a curious obliqueness: "If you please!" The keenest edge of it was lost on the flaring brewer, but his fingers dropped, and he twisted his heavy watchchain uneasily.

The meeting began.

Gaston in a few formal words, unconventional in idea, introduced Mr.Babbs as "a gentleman whose name was a household word in the county, who would carry into Parliament the civic responsibility shown in his private life, who would render his party a support likely to fulfil its purpose." When he sat down, Captain Maudsley said: "That's a trifle vague, Belward." "How can one treat him with importance ?" "He's the sort that makes a noise one way or another." "Yes.